Kilts

I wore kilts when I was a child. Did any girl growing up in the 1960s escape them? Here is a photo of me at a very young age astride Muffin the Mule (don't). As you can see I'm sporting a very fine kilt.

Except that it wasn't - it was a tartan skirt. No pin. Even in those heady days of utter carelessness with children, I was considered Too Young for a kilt pin. It was probably just as well, given the accident rate amongst my peers. In later years, at a birthday party for one of my classmates (I won't name her because that seems intrusive) the birthday girl managed to get a cocktail stick embedded in her foot in a most dramatic way (cue shrieking and pointing from all present). In the spirit of the age, she got the blame for being careless. In a French class once, another to-be-nameless classmate suddenly and dreamily interrupted Miss (oh I suppose I'd better not name her as well. Pity. She had the best name of all the teachers. Then she went and got married and became Mrs Something-much-more-mundane.) Where was I? Oh yes, the interruption was "Oh - it's gone right through". All eyes swivelled to the speaker and widened in horror as we saw that she had managed to push the point of her compasses through her middle finger and out the other side. More shrieking. She was roundly blamed for playing with her Maths equipment in a French lesson. Perhaps she would have got more sympathy if it had been in Maths. Doubtful, considering the treatment awarded me when I put my arm through a pane of glass in a fire door, necessitating 35 stitches. I'm not bitter. Anyhoo, I had plenty of kilt pins later and I don't remember any accidents. (Something has happened to Blogger. I don't like it. This post looks odd - sorry I can't work out how to make it behave.) I got to thinking about kilts following Nell's comment on a previous post. Then, whilst preparing for a Singing for the Brain session this week I came across this. Enjoy! All things truly are connected. Thanks for popping in.

Mess

I don't like it. So there. Let's kick off with a song (it's that sort of a day).

I've learned how to do a thing! If it's worked, you should hear, here, the marvellous Spooky Men singing The Mess Song. There wasn't a YouTube version, so the Thing I learned to do (or possibly didn't) is to embed a song from my collection.

I do like transformations of Mess into Order. One of the best things about The Railway Children was the way they (or perhaps it was Mother) Set To and made their new house a home, be it ever so humble.

The kind of mess I dislike most of all is other people's. Nuff said.

Anyhoo, what got me thinking about mess was this:

It arrived some days ago and stayed in its outer packaging until today. It is now unboxed, but still sealed.

I fear it will Make Mess.

Will I dare to go further? Will Dick and Snowy escape? Stay tuned for the next exciting instalment.

Nice to see you - pop in any time.

PS - ok, I see I haven't learned how to do a thing. Buy the cd - it's called Tooled Up and it is excellent. And if you ever get a chance to see them (they often tour the UK) seize it with both hands. They are fantastic performers. And they can grow beards if they want to.